Dirty Little Secret
by LLY1
Summary: Sequel to my other story, Just Like Magic. If you haven't read that, do so. ANd then read this.


If you have not read "Just Like Magic"() do *not* read this. That's about it.  
enjoy,  
-LLY  
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"Ron, it's been five years. Let it go. Let him go."   
  
"But Harry, you just don't know how real that dream was to me. It wasn't even a dream. . .sort of."  
  
"You told me a million and one times. The dream was every important moment in you and Draco's life together. Even his dea..." Even though, like Harry said before, it was five years after Ron's husband, Draco died. But despite the length of time that had passed, it was still a very touchy subject to Ron. Harry regretted ever mentioning it.  
  
"Even his death. I saw everything. Everything. I saw him dead on the floor again. . . And then I woke up and read the letter. . . "Ron let out a depressed sigh, looking as if he was about to cry.   
  
"Ron, it'll be okay. I promise it'll be okay. Come on, I suggest you clean yourself up, before Hermione and the others get here. You don't want them seeing you like this." Harry let Ron go to his bedroom to get fixed up. He looked around Ron's living room as he took a seat on his torn up old red couch. This place really has gotten a mess since Draco died, Harry thought.  
  
He was right, though, the house was a pigsty. There were a few dirty cups here and there, and the couch was radiating some strange odor that Harry didn't want nor care to try and recognize. The picture frames on the fireplace were either dusty or turned face down. The face down ones, he assumed, were the ones of either Ron and Draco or just Draco. He did not bother to touch them, it would be invading his friend's privacy. He looked at the Christmas tree that Ron had apparently set up himself, he wasn't sure of how long it was there, but he was sure that Ron haven't given it water or anything since he bought and decorated the tree.  
  
He would have done Ron a favor by fixing it up himself, but he knew Draco's mother, Narcissa, was coming over. Narcissa was always useful when it came to those kind of things, so he left the tree alone. He sat there for a few moments, looking around him at the messy home and even cleaned up a few things that really bothered him. He felt sorry for Ron, really. Harry knew Ron since he first found out that he was a wizard, he couldn't help it.  
  
A couple of minutes later, Ron walked back into the living room. "How do I look?" he asked plainly.   
  
"Great," Harry forced a fake smile; this wasn't the truth, Ron looked terrible. Ron was wearing a green sweater, the sweater would have looked nice, if it wasn't for the stain just under the collar, which Ron assumingly didn't notice was there. His hair was also still messy, the attempted part was crooked and his roots were turning grey on him. He had dirt on his nose, which reminded Harry of the first time they met, when Ron had dirt on his nose at the very same spot.  
  
Harry laughed, "I just noticed, Ron. You have dirt on your nose."   
  
"Where?" Ron rubbed his nose, not getting the dirt off it, but spreading it. Just then green flames erupted from the fire place and Molly Weasley, Ron's mother, came out of the flames, followed by Ron's Father, Arthur, his twin brothers, Fred and George and his younger sister, Ginny. All of which had red hair, just like Ron.  
  
"Happy Christmas, everyone! Oh Ron!" Molly exclaimed while placing her wrapped presents under the Christmas tree, completely ignoring the state that it was in. "You have dirt on your nose! Let me get that for you!" With out any response from Ron she licked her thumb and cleaned the dirt off his nose, she then patted Ron's front down. "Your shirt has a stain on it, dear."   
  
"Oh Molly leave the boy alone," said Ron's father, Arthur.  
  
Molly ignored her husband. "Why don't you go and get something else on? We won't mind."   
  
"Yes, Mom." Ron walked into his room to change.   
  
"Hello Harry," Arthur said. "How are things at Hogwarts? Student's aren't giving you any trouble are they?"   
  
"No, actually they aren't. Most of them came to school thrilled they were going to be taught by me. Most of their parents went to Hogwarts with me, so they heard almost about everything I did when I was a student there. I guess it's beneficial. It doesn't take much to get them to behave. So, how are things at the office?"   
  
Before his dad could even answer, a twin, Fred, one of Ron's older brothers cut in, "Hey Harry, try one of these." Fred stuck out his hand, palm up and reveled a small candy in red tin foil.   
  
"Sorry, Fred, but I'm not in a mood for candy."   
  
"Go on," the other twin said, "try it! You aren't scared, are you?"   
  
One would think with age these two would have changed since Hogwarts, Harry though. "No, I'm not scared. I just don't trust you." Everyone in the room laughed. Ron reentered the room, this time wearing a red sweater, with no visible stains.   
  
"Now that's better," Mrs. Weasley said.   
  
"What was everybody laughing about?"   
  
"Fred and George here were trying to get Harry to eat one of their Sour Ending Blood Bites," said Ron's sister Ginny.  
  
"Sour Ending Blood Bites?" Harry asked, "I don't like the sound of that. . . What do they do, exactly?"   
  
"Nothing much," George said, "we've made worse. These taste really good at first. Until you get to the end."   
  
"What does it taste like at the end?"   
  
"Well, it doesn't really taste like anything. It just has a really rotten and sour taste. To top that off, it sort of burns and then it tastes like your mouth is bleeding."   
  
"Delightful," Ron commented sarcastically.  
  
The fireplace lit up in green flames again, but this time Narcissa Malfoy stepped out of the portal, carrying boxes and trays of food. "Am I late?" she asked, "Would anyone mind helping me take some of these things into the kitchen?"   
  
"Not at all," Harry replied as he hurried up to Narcissa and grabbed some boxes to take into the kitchen. "You made this all yourself?" Harry asked when they got into the kitchen.   
  
"Of course, I always loved to cook. Ever since I was a little girl."   
  
Harry peeked into one box, "These looks delicious, Mrs. M."   
  
"Close that! They're for desert." Harry closed the box promptly, letting the sweet smell of the brownies hit him in the face. It reminded him of that time that he and Ron snuck down to the kitchen, during their sixth year at Hogwarts, before anything ever happened with Draco.  
Harry and Ron, covered by the invisibility cloak, walked quietly down the hall where the secret entry to the kitchen was. Harry accidentally stepped on Ron's toe and he let out a low yelp of pain. "Sorry," Harry whispered. When they got to the painting, Harry let his hand be exposed and tickled the pear, like he's done many times before. The pear laughed and turned into a large door handle. Harry pulled the door open and he and Ron stepped in.  
  
They took off the cloak and put it on the counter nearest them. Seconds later a house-elf named Dobby, wearing a strangely fashioned combination of clothing; two different socks and a brightly coloured tie, came up to them. "What is it that Harry Potter and his friend want now? Dobby has plenty of cream puffs left over from dinner, sir. Would Harry and friend like some of those?"   
  
"Hello Dobby," Harry said, "cream puffs sound great. I'd love to have a few."   
  
"None for me, thanks," said Ron, "I'm more in a chocolate mood. Do you have any brownies?"   
  
"Dobby has brownies, yes sir. Come with Dobby, sir!" With that, Dobby turned around and quickly ran through the four tables by the entrance, to the back where the other house-elves were. Dobby gave them plenty of sweets, both Ron and Harry pocketed a few brownies, Harry lost his appetite for the cream puffs.  
  
They carried a few brownies up with them to their house, eating half of what they brought with them before the got to the common room. When they reached the painting of the fat lady they took off the cloak. "Password?" The woman in the painting asked.   
  
"Grindylow." They walked into their common room when the door opens, and Harry threw the cloak onto the nearest chair and sat down.  
  
"What time is it?" Ron asked while looking out the window.   
  
"Don't know. Whatever time it is, I'm still not tired. Mustn't be that late."   
  
"I'm beat," Ron said while taking a seat opposite of Harry, "but I suppose I'll stay here with you to keep you company."   
  
Harry smiled. "Thanks."   
  
Ron took a brownie from out of his pocket and started to eat it. "They can really cook down there in the kitchen. I wish Mum cooked like this, or that we had our own house elf."  
  
"M'hm," Harry replied. He wasn't paying too much attention to what Ron was saying; he was too preoccupied by realising what great eyes Ron had. . .   
  
"Of course, I don't think my family will ever have enough money to afford our own house-elf."   
  
"Mmm.." Harry was busy studying Ron's lips now, realizing how pink they were.   
  
"You know, I bet you'd be able to afford your own one day. Actually, you might be able to afford one now with all that money you seem to have!" Ron laughed, but Harry just responded with another one of his "m'hm"s, he was far too busy with realizing how attracted to Ron he was all of a sudden.  
  
"Are you okay, Harry?"   
  
"Hmm?"   
  
"Maybe you really are tired. I say we both go to bed."   
  
"Oh um.. Sure," Harry responded. They both went to their beds.  
"It's okay Harry, I can take it from here," Narcissa said. Harry nodded and he left the kitchen to go to the living room, where Hermione arrived moments before.   
  
"Hermione! Hi! Happy Christmas!"   
  
"Happy Christmas!" Hermione said while greeting Harry with a tight hug. "I left some presents under the tree, one of them is for you. Of course, I don't want you opening it just yet." Harry looked under the tree, which was already freshly decorated; Hermione obviously beat Narcissa to it. But the tree looked better than what it did before, it looked fantastic.  
  
"I see you've redecorated the tree." Harry said, admiring the glittering tinsel hanging from the branches.  
  
"Well it didn't look too fantastic. So yes, I touched it up a bit. It looks like the type of Christmas tree we used to have at home when I was a child."  
  
"Then your Christmas Trees were beautiful," Ginny commented.  
  
Narcissa came in from the kitchen. "Everything that needs to be heated up is in the oven, the dessert is on the counter. We should be eating soon." She took the second to last seat available in the living room. When she was just about to get comfortable, she forgot something. "The presents! They're in the kitchen, I'll be right back."  
  
"Allow me," Harry said as he got up from his seat, leaving no room for Narcissa to respond. He walked into the kitchen and saw a pile of beautifully wrapped presents on the counter, just next to the sink. There wasn't too many of them, but just enough to make Harry put a little effort into lifting the presents to carry into the other room. He managed to bring the presents into the living room, and under the tree and went back to his seat.  
  
Arthur just finished one of his jokes, and everyone was laughing, except Ron. Well, Ron didn't look entirely unpleasant, he forced a smile at least. Fred and George tried pushing one of their Sour Ending Blood Bites on Narcissa, this time they succeeded. From Narcissa's reaction Harry was able to tell that Fred and George weren't lying when they said they were rotten and sour. Narcissa ran into the bathroom, feeling like she was about to be sick. She returned minutes later, saying she didn't get sick, but saying that she thought the dinner was ready.  
  
They filled Ron's tiny dining room, although his family was large, and so was his living room; he had a small dining room. There were only about six chairs, and since there was seven of them, Harry volunteered to sit on the extra chair. Narcissa had already set the table and now she was bringing out the food: turkey, mashed potatoes, yams and a bunch of other well-cooked food.  
  
"They smell delicious, Narcissa," Molly commented as Narcissa put the yams on the table. Harry knew from previous dinners that Narcissa was a great cook, this wasn't the first time she had cooked a holiday meal for them.   
  
"Hey look everyone!" Fred said. "It's snowing!"  
  
Everyone looked out the window, which was just behind Ron and it was snowing. It wasn't snowing much, but it was snowing. "How lovely," George said. "Now can we eat? I'm starved."  
  
Narcissa sat down and helped herself to some food. Everyone else did, too. Harry sat there, eating his food and staring out the window as the snow fell. He remembered the first snow of the season in his sixth year.  
  
  
It was December twelfth and it still hadn't snowed. Harry and Ron were walking back to the castle from Hagrid's house. "It's so cold," Ron said. "I wonder when it's finally going to snow." He looked up at the sky and squinted his eyes. "It really looks like snow this time, I just hope it does."   
  
"Feels like snow, too," Harry said as he shoved his hands inside his cloak to keep warm.  
  
"It's been cold for days now, being cold doesn't mean a thing."  
  
"Actually, I think it just started, Ron." Harry squinted, straining his eyes trying to see if it was really snowing, or if his eyes are just playing tricks on him. "It is snow! That's weird, we were just talking about it." He sat down, at the bark of a nearby tree and looked up. Ron gave him a strange look. "Well," he started, "it's the first snow, I don't want to miss it, you know."  
  
Ron, not knowing what else there was to do, sat next to Harry and looked up at the grey sky. "You're one of a kind, Harry. You know that? It's twenty degrees out here, snowing and you sit under a tree too watch the snowfall? You're mad."  
  
Harry grinned. "But you're sitting with me, Ron." Ron said nothing this time, they both just sat there for ten minutes in silence, to watch the snow.  
  
Ron looked at Harry, his nose pink, along with his ears. "Can't we go in now?" He asked hopefully.  
  
You're cute when you're like that. That's what Harry wanted to say. "Sure, Ron. I think we saw enough of the snow." He laughed and then they got up and dusted off their robes, then walked toward the castle.  
  
  
Harry scraped up the last of his mashed potatoes and commented Narcissa on her cooking. They later ate dessert and Ron actually looked like he was enjoying himself, until Ginny mentioned Draco.  
  
"If only Draco was-" Ginny stopped in the middle of her sentence and looked to Ron and Narcissa filled with regret.   
  
"Ginny!" Molly snapped.  
  
"No, Mum. It's okay," Ron said. But Harry knew by the shaken sound of Ron's voice that it wasn't okay.  
  
Ginny looked at Narcissa, who already started to cry and apologized to the both of them. "I'm sorry. . I didn't mean to."  
  
"It's okay," Narcissa said.  
It was sometime in February, Ron had just woken Harry up from his dream. Harry didn't remember much about his dream, just that Ron was in it and that he was enjoying it. But this morning Ron told Harry that he had to tell him and Hermione something important, so he unwillingly got out of bed.  
  
After Harry got dressed, they went down to the common room, where Hermione was already. They sat down and Ron told them that he was in love with Draco Malfoy. Harry was crushed, of course, he acted like it completely revolted him instead.  
  
"Draco Malfoy?!" Harry said in disbelief. "Of all people. ." Harry was shocked that not only did Ron like boys; he was even more shocked that he liked Draco Malfoy. It was Harry's worst enemy, and his best friend was sleeping with him.  
  
But despite the fact that Harry hated that it was Draco Malfoy Ron was in love with, it wasn't the thing that most bothered him. It was the fact that during the past few months, Harry himself was falling in love with Ron. All Harry wanted to do then was cry. But he saved it for that night, when he silently cried himself to sleep.  
But even now Harry thought he hid his feelings for Ron pretty well. After all, those feelings didn't die out at all. Even after Draco died Harry didn't want to say anything, not even now. He saw what Draco's death was doing to Ron. Telling him the truth would only make matters worse.   
  
The rest of the dessert they ate in silence. Narcissa and Ron feeling too depressed, and Ginny feeling too guilty. Everyone else was too afraid to say something that might upset him or her. Ron, after he was done, complimented Narcissa and then announced that he would be in his room.  
  
Harry, still not finished with his food, put his fork down and excused himself. He rose from his seat and right after Ron to his room. When he got to Ron's shut door, he knocked.  
  
"Who is it?" Ron asked.  
  
"Ron, it's Harry. Let me in, please." Ron came to the door; his eyes teary and red from crying, let Harry come in. Harry took a seat on the edge of Ron's bed, and looked at Ron. "Ron, it's been five years, you should let him go."  
  
"Don't you think I know that, Harry? It's a little harder than you think it is," Ron said while wiping another tear from his face.  
  
"I never said it would be easy, but it'd be better for you if you just let him go."  
  
Ron sighed. "I know, but how could I? I mean, how does someone forget someone like Draco? How could you ignore a feeling that's so strong?"  
  
"Just... go out and do something fun. A hobby, Ron; Get a hobby." Harry knew that this was maybe one of the stupidest suggestions that he had in a long time. It wasn't always such a bad solution, but right now it was.  
  
"A hobby? You're joking. Besides, you have never been in love in your life, have you Harry?" Ron sighed and looked down to the floor. "You don't understand what it's like."  
  
Little did Ron know how long Harry's been ignoring his feelings for Ron since he was sixteen. He almost was about to tell Ron how he could relate to what Ron was going through, but something told him not to. Not yet at least. "You're right, Ron," Harry said dimly. "I don't know what you're going through."  
  
"So why do you insist on giving me advice? You know, you might not realise this, but you're a great friend. You really are. Always had been."  
  
Harry smiled. "Thanks, but you're a great friend too."  
  
They just sat there, staring at each other, Ron crying and Harry hesitating. He's not quite sure what made him do it, but he spit out the words as fast as he could. "I love you." Before Ron could even respond, Harry grabbed Ron and kissed him.  
  
Ron, still not exactly sure of what was going on, kissed Harry back. But it finally sunk in and Ron stopped, and backed away. "Wait," he said. "You... love me?"  
  
"Yes," Harry said softly. "I love you."  
  
"Since when?"  
  
"Since we were sixth years in Hogwarts."  
  
"That's a long time."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Well this is weird."  
  
"I guess."  
  
Ron and Harry sat there in an awkward silence, until Ron finally said, "Before or after Draco?"  
  
"Before," Harry replied. "Just a few months. . The November before, maybe. Not too long before Draco."  
  
"Oh." Ron thought for a bit. "Harry, why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"First of all, I didn't think you liked boys. Second, I wouldn't think you have liked me."  
  
"Oh." Before, Ron could say anything else Molly called them two saying they were about to open presents. Harry and Ron got up, not looking at each other and left the room.  
  
They walked into the living room and sat opposite of each other, not making eye contact. The rest of the night, actually, they spent not talking directly to one another, or even looking at one another. It was too awkward. Harry stayed until everyone left, so he and Ron could be alone to talk.  
  
Of course, they spent ten more minutes in silence, neither them not knowing what to say. "Ron, I shouldn't have said anything, I'll go now." Harry got up and was about to leave until Ron grabbed his arm.  
  
"No, don't leave," he said, "I don't want you to."  
  
"You. . You don't?"  
  
"No, I mean. . I didn't know. I wish I would have known earlier."  
  
"Before Draco?"  
  
"Yes," Ron said, "and do you know why?" Harry shook his head. "Because I had feelings for you even before Draco."  
  
Harry looked at Ron, in shock, trying to calculate what he just told him. He wanted to cry, he wanted to break something, he just felt like he had to do something. "You did?"  
  
"Yeah, I did. Who wouldn't? You're Harry Potter, for goodness sakes."  
  
Great reason, Harry thought. "But Ron, why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"Same reason why you didn't tell me. Didn't think you would ever like me. Why would Harry Potter like a Weasley?"  
  
"I'm friends with you, aren't I?"  
  
"Well... yes."   
  
Once again, Harry grabbed Ron and kissed him, Ron kissed him back. But this time, they didn't let go. Harry whispered "Happy Christmas" into Ron's ear and Ron whispered it back. They then spent that night together.  
  
When Harry woke up, Ron was gone and all that was left next to him was a note. Harry picked up the letter and read it out loud. "Went to get a few things, sorry that I had to leave so early. -Ron" Even though Harry didn't actually think Ron had to get a few things, he wouldn't mention this to his friend. It was like Ron to avoid something like this, especially this situation. He didn't stay at Ron's house, either. He got himself dressed and left to go to Hogwarts.  
  
Since it was around Christmas, Hogwarts was extremely quite and empty. On his way to his office he greeted a few passing students. One of those students was third year Slytherin, Dwayne Parkinson. Even though Harry grew up in Hogwarts believing that Slytherin was a horrible, evil house, his years teaching there proved it wrong.  
  
Dwayne was one of his best students, Harry once got a chance to meet his mother once, Pansy. He had never met the father, all Harry knew about the father is that Pansy and him weren't close at all. He also passed the Potions master, Professor Snape, but didn't exactly greet him. When ever they passed each other in the hallway they would exchange some sort of negative look. Ever since Harry first attended Hogwarts, Snape always had his problems with Harry, and even now that Harry taught there it seems like he hated Harry even more.  
  
Later that day he got an owl from Ron, stating that they had to talk about what happened the night before and they should meet in The Three Broomsticks two nights from then. Harry sent Ron a letter back agreeing that they should meet there at seven o' clock at night on the twenty-eighth.  
  
The day before Harry was to meet Ron, Dwayne came to Harry's office for help on his holiday homework. While Harry was explaining of the things that Dwayne needed to do, Dwayne was too busy studying one of Harry's pictures, not paying attention at all.  
  
"Professor, who is that?" Dwayne asked while pointing to a picture of Harry, Ron, Draco, Hermione and the others on Ron's wedding day. "In that picture."  
  
"You mean Draco?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes, he looks a lot like my father."  
  
"Your father?"  
  
"Yea, Mum always told me stories about him. How he came to Hogwarts and was a Slytherin, powerful family and all. She told me Voldemort killed him only a few years ago."  
  
Harry's throat tightened. That's impossible. It's just a coincidence. "She never told you his name?"  
  
"Only once, Draco sounds right. Mum did give me a picture of him, would you like to see?"  
  
Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to look at a picture that could possibly be his best friend's husband. If it was, he would have to tell Ron, it would ruin him. "Sure," he finally said. Dwayne pulled out a picture from inside of his robes, Harry cautiously looked at the picture. Blonde hair, blue-grey eyes. . . Harry had to tell Ron.  
  
Harry arrived at The Three Broomsticks fifteen minutes early. He ordered two butterbeers, one for him and one for Ron. He sat down at an empty booth until Ron finally came, fifteen minutes late.  
  
"Sorry I'm late," Ron said as he took a seat across from Harry. "What's wrong, Harry? Why are you looking so grim?"  
  
"What? Oh, nothing. I bought a butterbeer for you, Ron."  
  
"Oh, thanks." Ron grabbed the butterbeer, and started to drink.  
  
"Before we get to anything else, there's something I have to tell you, Ron." Harry's voice was nothing more than a whisper.  
  
"About us?" Harry shook his head. "Then what is it?"  
  
"It's about Draco. Look, Ron, I don't want to say that what I'm about to tell you is a hundred percent true. But I think you should know."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Yesterday, a student of mine, Dwayne Parkinson, came into my office asking for help. He recognized Draco in one of the pictures on the wall." Harry took a sip of butterbeer. He tried to choose his words as carefully as he possibly could. "That's not it, Ron. He said that Draco was his father. He even had his own picture of him. I'm sorry, Ron."  
  
Ron looked at Harry, tears welling up in his eyes that were full of hurt. He just sat that, absorbing what the bomb that Harry laid upon him. "But. . . why would Draco do that to me? It has to be some sort of coincidence, or mistake."  
  
"That's what I was thinking. But the kid knew about Draco's death. . Why Draco would do something like this? Your guess is as good as mine. You don't have to believe me, or any of this if you don't want to."  
  
Ron had stopped drinking his butterbeer by now. "But it makes sense, Harry. He probably did it to carry his blood. His family, you know. He didn't have any brothers, sisters or cousins. He was the only one left. But. . he didn't tell me. He said that I was the only one that he every slept with. Ever. Now I find out he has a son?" Ron started to really cry now, tears running down his cheeks steadily.  
  
"Ron, come on, let's go. We can go back to the castle." Ron made a noise, which was meant to be an "okay" and Harry, putting his arms around Ron, walked with him back to Hogwarts.  
  
On their way to Harry's office, they ran into Dwayne and instantaneously Ron knew who he was. Ron just looked at Dwayne, crying and hurt while the child greeted Harry warmly.  
  
"That blonde boy, that was Dwayne, wasn't it?" Ron asked when they got into the office. "He looked just like Draco when he was younger. Like when we went to school with him."   
  
Harry solemnly nodded and then brought Ron to lean on his chest to cry. "Ron, I am so sorry." Harry himself was about to cry.  
  
They sat there, with Ron crying on Harry when Ron looked up to Harry with tears still dripping down his eyes and asked, "Harry, you won't ever do something like that to me, would you?"  
  
Harry looked down at Ron, shocked. This was all happening too fast for Harry, not that he minded it. It was just to fast. He smiled, "No Ron, I would never do anything like that to you." Ron smiled back, and they spent the rest of the night that way, in each other's arms.  
  
They woke up the next morning, together in Harry's bedroom at the school. The sun woke Harry up, as the curtains were pulled apart by Ron. "Good morning, Harry," Ron said, "You looked so peaceful in your sleep I didn't want to wake you."  
  
"Morning," Harry replied as he reached for his glasses. He put them on and sat there on the edge of his bed, in deep thought, looking at the floor. "So um. ."  
  
"Are we. ."  
  
"Are we?"  
  
"Well.. You know." Ron pointed at Harry and then at himself, and repeated this gesture once again.  
  
"Oh.." Harry looked at Ron, his lips slowy forming a smile and said, "Sure, if that's what you want."  
  
Ron approached Harry slowly, "Well I think that is what I want."  
  
Then Harry grinned and grabbed Ron. "Then that's what you'll get." He brought him closer to him and kissed him. He ran his hands down Ron's back and drew hm even closer to him. They would have stood there forever, but there was a knock at the door and they let go of each other instantly.  
  
"Who is it?" Harry said as he walked to the door.  
  
"Professor Potter, it's Dwayne Parkinson!"  
  
Harry opened the door and looked down at the child, he tried to hide how annoyed he was, but failed. "What brings you to my private bedroom so early in the morning?"  
  
The boy was wearing his hair casually, it didn't have anything in it and it sort of looked like he had just woken up himself. "That's the thing," Dwayne began "it's one o' clock in the afternoon, sir. I thought I would come here to wake you myself."   
  
Harry forced a smile. "Is that all?"  
  
"Um. . . I guess so."  
  
"I can assure you, Dwayne that you need not worry about me waking up on time. It is a holiday, and I may wake up when I want to. If there isn't anything else you may leave now."  
  
"Yes, Professor," the boy's voice sounded very disappointed. He stopped just as quickly as he started to turn and looked back up at Harry. "I was wondering," he paused, "if you knew anything about my father. My mother never told me anything more than when he was killed and that he was a Slytherin and attended this school."  
  
Ron let out a squeak and walked to the window, pretending like he didn't hear a word. "Now is not the time, Dwayne. Perhaps later, when my friend isn't over."  
  
"Did your friend know my father too?"  
  
Ron let out another sound and Harry tried to keep as calm as he possibly could. As innocent as this boy was, he was getting on Harry's nerves a little. Just a little. "Yes, he was a very close friend of your father's. Now please, I'll see you in my office later."  
  
"But, well my father died five years ago. Such a long time, surely you two must not be upset about it! Please, Professor. Tell me something!"  
  
The boy was desperate, but so was Harry. "Dwayne, never have I known you to be so rude! Out of my bedroom before I take points from Slytherin!" Dwayne lowered his head and walked out of the room. Harry turned to Ron. "Ron maybe I should let you get over Draco first, it doesn't take the smartest person in the world to figure out how strong your feelings are for him. We should just wait."  
  
Ron turned around with tears dripping down his cheeks. "What if I never do get over Draco, Harry? Then what are you going to do?"  
  
"I.." Harry trailed off, looking to the floor, away from Ron. "I don't know, but I don't want to be with you if it's Draco you really want. If it's not me, I'll understand." Ron said nothing and Harry nodded in acknowledgement, "I understand."  
  
"Do you really, Harry?" Ron looked directly at Harry, making full eye contact. "Do you? I mean, I don't want to hurt you, but do you really understand?"  
  
"Yes, Ron. I understand." There was a long awkward pause until Harry came up with something else to do. "Why don't we go to The Three Broomsticks to drown our sorrows?"  
  
"That idea sounds great, Harry." But Ron still didn't smile.  
  
They got dressed and arrived at The Three Broomsticks a half hour later. Harry gestured to Ron to sit down at a table, facing the window. "I'll order the drinks," he told Ron. He returned moments with two tall mugs with Butterbeer dripping over the sides. "I got the biggest amount that I could get," Harry said as he sat down himself, back to the window.  
  
"Thanks," Ron said as a half-smile formed on his face. They didn't really talk; they just sat there and slowly drank their Butterbeer.  
  
With a loud crash of glass hitting the floor, Ron gasped. Harry flinched. "What is it?"  
  
Ron's face turned red with embarrassment, Madame Rosmerta was already rushing to the scene to clean the mess up. Ron apologized to her and then he turned to Harry and hesitated for a minute. "It was nothing, I just. . blanked out," he said.  
  
"Are you sure?" To this Ron said nothing, he just nodded. Harry knew better than to believe this, but he also knew better than to question Ron to death, so he let it go. Ron asked for another Butterbeer and Madame Rosmerta came back with another normal size mug of Butterbeer.  
  
"Try not to drop it this time," she said jokingly. She went back to take an order from a yound wizard, possibley a Hogwarts student. Possibley. . .  
  
"Dwayne?!" Harry scolded. "You aren't allowed in Hogsmeade now! How did you get here?!"  
  
Dwayne turned around to face Harry, in shock. "Professor.. I... didn't expect to see you here. ."  
  
Harry was furious. "Like hell you didn't! Explain yourself! You realize I will have to tell the other professors about this! Especially Professor Snape! As for me, I'm taking a hundred points from Slytherin. Be thankful it isn't more. Now explain yourself!"  
  
Dwayne was lost for words. "I.. I.. I,"he stuttered. His fist just tightened around an old piece of parchment that was crumpled up in his hand. .  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "Dwayne Parkinson! What is that in your hand?! If that is what I think it is.." Dwayne's grip just grew tighter, Harry marched up to the child and looked him in the eye. "You hand that paper to me in an instant!"  
  
Dwayne, frightened as ever, handed the paper to Harry promptly. Harry un-crumpled the paper and read out loud, faintly. "Mssrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot. . The Maurader's Map! You stole this from my office, Dwayne!"  
  
"I'm. . I'm sorry, professor."  
  
"You have no idea how big of a problem this is! You are in so much trouble. I'm taking three hundred points from Slytherin for this! Explain yourself now!"  
  
Just then Ron dropped his butter beer again, and Harry tuned around. "What is it Ron?"  
  
Ron was drifting off, staring out oft he window. "Dr...err..." He was in complete shock.  
  
Harry realized what Ron was looking at and he, himself, was shocked. "It can't be. It's just someone that looks just like him."  
  
"No it's my father," Dwayne cut in. "That's why I stole the map. Well, not for this, but to come to Hogsmeade. I was lucky I did, I just got an owl from him this morning."  
  
Harry looked at Dwayne, questioning him. He then looked at Ron, who was turning pale by the second. He looked at who Ron was staring at, as they approached the entrance to The Three Broomsticks, oblivious to what was about to happen. "Maybe we should go." He turned to Dwayne with fury. "All three of us."  
  
"No! I thought my father was dead for all these years! You're not going to take this away from me!"  
  
"So you would rather be expelled? What about you, Ron?" But Ron said nothing; he was too busy feeling sick.   
  
Draco had opened the door and soon realized his mistake.  
  
Draco looked at Ron, Ron looked at Draco. Harry looked to Ron and Dwayne looked to Draco. "Dad?" Dwayne whispered, he didn't mean for it to be a whisper, but that's what came out. A whisper.  
  
Draco didn't respond right away, he just stood there, contemplating whether he should just run back out of that door. But he stayed put and let Harry say the first words. "What the......"  
  
"It... It looks like I have a lot of explaining to do. Don't I?"  
  
"Yes," Harry said with a cold look. "You do."  
  
"Well..." Draco started, while he walked forward.  
  
"Oh, I really do hope this is a dream."  
  
"It's not... I just.."  
  
"You just what?" Harry let the words leave his mouth through his clenched teeth. His hands were in fists, and it was taking all his willpower not to hit Draco right then and there. One false move, or word would get Draco and nice black eye.  
  
"I was.. scared.. I didn't know what I should do."  
  
"So you let everyone think you were dead?"  
  
"It's nothing like that."  
  
"How could you, Draco? How could you do this to everyone? You're mother and Ron, especially. How could you!? My first impression was right, you are a bastard."  
  
"I..."  
  
Harry shoved his hand into his robes and pulled out his wand, his knuckles white, and his teeth clenched. He pointed the wand at Draco..  
  
"Harry, don't!" Ron leaped up to protect Draco, and Dwayne did the same.  
  
But Harry didn't do anything, he just had this mad look in his eyes. "But he deserves it, Ron. What he did to you.. What he did to his mother... What he did to Dwayne.. What he did to me."  
  
"To you.. I..." Ron stammered.  
  
"Oh, he knows exactly what he did." Harry's voice was shaky, and his evil glare penetrated Draco's worried expressions. "Don't you Draco?"  
  
"I don't..." Draco said as he slowly began to back out.  
  
"Don't you dare leave!" With an angry swish of his wand, a fireball went straight for Draco's head. All three, Draco, Dwayne and Ron ducked to avoid being burnt. "Well isn't this fun."  
  
Harry definitely lost it, there was no doubt about that. But everything was coming back to him now... The past seven years...  
  
"You... Are supposed to be dead!"  
  
"I couldn't keep this up for any longer, Harry."   
  
Madame Rosmerta got involved. "I will not have this in my shop! Out!" She began to kick them out, until Harry waved his wand at her.  
  
"Petrificus totalus!" And with that, Madame Rosmerta was frozen solid. "As you we saying..."  
  
"You've gone mad," Ron said.  
  
"Thank you for that observation, I'll be sure to give ten points to Gryffindor for that one."  
  
"It was wrong. I couldn't live with myself, Harry," Draco said.  
  
"You faked your death!" Ron said.  
  
"With some help." Draco looked to Harry.  
  
"I don't believe it." Ron look as if he was about to cry, actually he already was. "Please say he's lying, Harry.  
  
"Of course he is, Ron." Harry glared at Draco.  
  
"Oh please, Harry. You have always been such a terrible liar." Draco said, as he went for his own wand. He raised it in the air and waved it, grinning. "You know, just in case."  
  
"Will someone please explain what the bloody hell is going on here?"  
  
"Harry helped me fake my 'death', Ron."  
  
"He's a liar!"  
  
"Am I, Harry? I do believe it was your idea. Your idea for me to 'die', never did I even imagine it was for you to have Ron for yourself. But now I know for sure. You're no better than I am."  
  
"I never tricked you!"  
  
"Ah, yes, I remember now. It was you who captured me, the night Voldemort was coming. You told me you thought it would be a terrific idea to leave with you, and leave a body behind, an exact replica of me. To make Voldemort believe I was already dead. Sounded good at the time. After all, Voldemort will come, think I'm dead and then I could return and be with Ron.  
  
"Never did I imagine, Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the hero of the day, of the year, of the century, to betray me. I should have known better than that. You are more selfish than you let on. Aren't you?"  
  
"Liar!"  
  
"But instead of letting me go back, you brought me to your house, and locked me there with a magic key. You bewitched that house before. You planned it for the longest time. You had every corner of that house enchanted. You were planning on keeping me there a lot longer than just five years. How long, Harry? How long did you plan on keeping me there?"  
  
Ron and Dwayne looked at Harry in disbelief. "How could you, Harry..." Ron started.  
  
"Ron, he's lying! Don't believe him!"  
  
Ron was torn between his best friend and his... husband? He didn't know what to call him, he was dead to him for so long. But here he was, clear as day and claiming that his best friend betrayed him. It wasn't just any ordinary betrayal. He faked his best friend's husband's death. Ron didn't have a clue what to do. So much was happening all at once. It was too much to take.  
  
Harry softened up a bit. "You believe me. Don't you, Ron?"  
  
A tear dropped down Ron's cheek, his eyes were now bloodshot from all the crying he's been doing the past ten minutes. "No, Harry, I don't."  
  
Harry lowered his wand, which was pointed at Draco the entire time. He grabbed the nearest chair and sat himself down. Draco let out a sigh of relief. "I don't blaim you, Ron."  
  
"You don't?"  
  
"No, no I don't know. I deserve it. Draco is telling the truth."  
  
"I don't know what to say, Harry."  
  
"I'm sorry, Ron."  
  
"So am I."  
  
For a few minutes, they didn't say anything. Harry sat there and looked at the floor, wondering what they were going to do with him. Ron, feeling some sympathy towards his friend,decided to make a bargain with him. "I... I work at the ministry. Percy.. he works there too. We could.. maybe cut you a deal on your punishment."  
  
"Punishment...." Harry muttered to himself.  
  
"Of course, you may be my friend, Harry. But you ruined so many lives."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Maybe you don't have to stay at Azkabam... You could maybe... Just be imprisoned in your home.. Or something.."  
  
"Let's just go to the ministry, and get it over with. Dwayne, we'll take care of you later. Go back to school and stay in your dorms."  
  
Harry freed Madam Rosmerta from the spell and they headed to the Ministry.  
  
The Ministry was unusually busy this day, and it seemed that the workers at their desks were actually bored. The walked to the very back of the long room to a closed door that said "Cornelius Fudge: Minister of Magic". There was a desk right next to the door, and sitting at it was Percy, Ron's brother and the Ministers assistant. Like the rest of Ron's family, Percy had red hair. He didn't notice them there, he was busy writing down something on a piece of parchment and then he put it in the basket labeled "Out".  
  
He looked up and noticed Ron, Draco, and Harry all standing there. He was just as shocked to see Draco as Ron was. "Percy, we have a problem," Ron said.  
  
"I see that. W-what is going on here?"  
  
"It is a very long story, we need to see Fudge immediately."  
  
"Whatever it is, you can tell me, Mr. Fudge is busy right this moment."  
  
"Percy, I'm serious!"  
  
"So am I, so tell me why is Draco here when he died five years ago?"  
  
"That's the thing," Ron started. "Harry kidnapped him."  
  
"He what?" Percy looked at Harry. "Harry, this is very serious."  
  
"I know." Harry said solemnly. He wasn't going to get rude now. Not with Percy and not in Ministry. That's for sure.  
  
Percy slightly opened the door to his bosses office and poked his head in. "Mr. Fudge, there's Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter and my brother, Ron, out here to see you."  
  
A voice was heard from outside the office that was definitely Cornelius'. "But Draco Malfoy is dead."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Let them in."  
  
Percy turned around to Ron, Harry and Draco. "You can go in."  
  
"We heard," Ron said as they walked into his office.  
  
Fudge's office was tremendous. And even though Harry was in there more than a few times, it seemed as if every time he went it would get bigger and more magnificent every time. The walls, like Dumbledore's old office, had paintings and pictures of previous Ministers. The primary color of the room was gold, which made Fudge stand out drastically.  
  
Fudge was wearing a silly looking bright purple robe, his wizard's hat being baby blue. He was sitting behind his elevated desk, on top off an equally elevated chair. "Explain," he stated.  
  
Harry told him the entire story, leaving Cornelius with a tough decision to make. "Usually, I would take this up with other people in the Ministry. But I'm going to be easy on you, Potter. But only because how valuable you actually are. You will serve ten months in our personal prison downstairs. It very much resembles a muggle prison. It isn't as bad as Azkaban is, but you won't have any freedom. You may not return as a Professor in Hogwarts for another year and a half.  
  
"But that is all. It is a small price to pay for such a large crime. As for your son, Mr. Malfoy, I will talk to Headmaster McGonagall about his sentence. Under circumstances, he will not be expelled. I will make sure of that."  
  
"Thank you, sir." Harry said.  
  
"Percy, get someone up here to escort Mr. Potter down."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"That is all, all three of you leave the office. Before I change my mind."  
  
Without another word they all went outside Cornelius' office, closing the door behind them.  
  
"Ten months isn't so bad, Harry." Ron said.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ron. I really am."  
  
"It'll be okay, Harry. I promise."  
  
And at that, two very large wizards came and went to Harry's sides. "Bye you two."  
  
Draco watched as Harry was escorted to the elevator, and then he turned to Ron, who was watching as well. Ron looked up at Draco with a tear rolling down he cheak and said, "Draco, I'm glad you're back." Draco looked down at Ron and just smiled. "Just one thing."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Explain why there is Dwayne to me."  
  
"Oh.. um.." Draco shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I needed to carry my blood line along somehow.. I wanted my family name to as well, but I guess Pansy voted against that."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"I thought maybe you wouldn't have understood? But I see by the looks of you, you do."  
  
"Yes, I do." Ron went to kiss Draco, and they stood there passionately kissing, making up for the five years that they missed. "I think we can go back home now. To our home."  
  
And so they did.  
  
  
It was two weeks after Draco returned and Harry was sentenced. Harry was sitting alone in his extraordinarily small cell, staring at the ceiling out of boredom. A tall thin man, dressed entirely in black came to the bars and told him that he had a visitor.  
  
"Let him in," Harry said.  
  
The man left and returned with Draco. Harry gestured to the man that he wanted some privacy, and since the man actually trusted Harry, it was given to him. "Hello, Draco." He got up and walked closer to Draco. The only thing between them was a few inches of space and bars.  
  
"Look, I just didn't want to hurt Ron...."  
  
"I understand."  
  
"But I'll come here often, you know that." Draco leaned in for a kiss and Harry did the same, their lips met between the metal bars that were cold on their face. But that didn't matter. They exchanged some tongue and then Draco retracted and whispered, "Let's just keep this our little secret."  
  
Harry grinned. "Our dirty little secret." 


End file.
